Humor Is Not Always Funny

I’m into humor. The most humorous to me is not from me. Hardly. It’s from Steven Wright, who speaks in a monotone, dullness crashing through, and shares why he wears different colored socks. In fact, one of the best birthdays for Matthew was the surprise gift taking him to see Wright. In my mind, excuse the pun, “Wright was never wrong.” When someone chided Wright for wearing different colored socks, he mused, “I go by thickness.”

A few more “Wrightisms”: It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it. I broke a mirror in my house and I’m supposed to get 7 year’s bad luck, but my lawyer thinks he can get me five. I’m writing a book. I have the page numbers done; now I just have to fill in the rest. I went to a place to eat. It said, “Breakfast anytime.” So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.

I like one-liners, really spontaneous, when getting to a business, let’s say the Post Office and another person arrives just after I get to the door, I open it [if not automatic] and say, “Nice. Your timing was perfect.” Or, I’ll tell a store manager, ”Hey, bet you love customers who refuse to spell whine with an h.”

However, now that humor, or a sense of humor has become an out from criticism, I draw—and hopefully no less or differently for you—a line. When I heard that our President’s encouragement to the police force gathered to “be tougher than the criminals,” A press conference indicated the President was “joking.” I didn’t find a smile anywhere. Thank goodness, and this was triggered by my Police Chief buddy in training his new staff members, “When I bring on new officers, I spend some time with them on day 1 of their academy. During my talk with them, I tell them about my big 5, the keys to being successful at SMPD. #1 on the list is ‘treat everyone with dignity and respect.’”

And then this morning I read where Scaramucci said, in so many words, he was joking about his trash-down of Priebus. Not.

Sorry, guys, but I don’t buy it. There’s nothing funny about humor misplaced. Not that it should be absent…but the situation is crucial…no matter if thickness of socks has a place or not. Or how much force a police officer should provide. Or…


About Mark H Miller

Diane and I live in Leander, Texas. This past June 17, 2015 I celebrated the 49th anniversary of my ordination. We returned to Texas after three years in Washington, during which I served as interim minister in Bellevue/Eastgate and Mercer Island. Am planning to begin a 5th novel that will have my protagonist, Tricia Gleason, serve a year in licensed ministry in Snoqualmie, Washington. The novel, "The Lemon Drop Didn't Melt," will find Tricia wrestling with ministry challenges. None of which more daunting than someone wanting her breathing to stop. All the published novels are available on Amazon and Amazon Kindle under Mark Henry Miller. A primary goal in our return to Texas is to make sure grandchildren get lots of attention--here and in Chicago and Washington, D.C. Traveling is definitely an activity that will not slow down. With that, of course, fishing will happen. To that the t-shirt is apt, "I fish; therefore I am." In addition to novels, the book of Blogs, "Voice Of My Heart," is also available on Amazon.
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